"We are truly screwed now."
"How do we survive their pursuit?!" Trevor exclaimed, his voice trembling with disbelief and panic. The situation was far worse than he could comprehend, and the gravity of their circumstances weighed heavily on him.
'Zark? What's the power level of the Gargoyle Elders?' Ethan asked silently, reaching out to the entity within his mind. His voice was calm, but his heart pounded with uncertainty. He already feared the answer but needed confirmation.
'I'm not sure about this generation, but in my time, the lowest-ranked elder was equivalent to what you would now call a Master Level mage.' Zark's voice echoed in Ethan's mind, deep and ancient, carrying the weight of forgotten eons.
'The hell?!' Ethan's thoughts almost screamed.
'They are elders, after all...'
"System? What's the current power level of the Gargoyle Elders?" Ethan's voice was low, but the edge of anxiety couldn't be masked.
[Answering Host: The power level of the Gargoyle Elders ranges from Master level to the Peak of the Grandmaster level. Host has no chance of survival.]
"Did you really have to add that part?" Ethan muttered under his breath, a sliver of frustration bleeding into his voice.
["..."] The system remained silent, leaving Ethan's sarcastic remark to hang in the air.
Trevor's confusion grew, his wide eyes flicking nervously between Ethan and their surroundings. "What... what does that mean?" he asked, his voice faltering. He couldn't yet grasp the gravity of their dire situation.
"It means, Trevor," Ethan began, his tone darkening as he sank to the ground, leaning against the massive form of Galeno, their beast companion, "we are dead. There's no surviving this." Trevor's face paled as he, too, lowered himself beside Ethan, his confusion giving way to fear.
"We won't move out yet," Ethan said, his tone shifting to one of cool determination. "I have food in my storage space. We will stay here for two days and cultivate. Use this time wisely — to either gain enlightenment or feel your path. We need every ounce of strength. During these two days, we'll familiarize ourselves with our new power."
"I still don't understand…" Trevor admitted, his voice trembling as the reality of their fate began to settle into his bones.
Ethan's expression hardened. "We can die," he said plainly. "No, scratch that. We will die — with no way to prevent or defend against it. And we won't even notice it happening."
Trevor's breath caught in his throat. "Dude, you're scaring me."
"I'm sorry, but that's the reality," Ethan continued, his voice unwavering. "The lowest-ranked Gargoyle Elder is a Master Level being, and the strongest are at the peak of the Grandmaster Level. Do you really think you can survive the pursuit of even one of them? How much more all the elders of the Hive?"
Trevor's voice cracked, barely audible over the weight of his fear. "No way... So, I'm going to die like this? I don't want to die... I... I..."
"That's why we have to gather our strength before we move out," Ethan pressed on, his resolve unshaken.
"It won't matter, Ethan. We're basically ants to them."
Ethan turned his gaze skyward, his eyes narrowing as though he were searching for something far beyond their immediate peril. "Don't lose hope yet. I've got a pretty strong path, and I'll hide our presence for these two days. It'll give us some time. Besides, the system won't give us a quest or mission that can't be accomplished. There has to be a way. We will survive."
Trevor looked at Ethan, uncertainty clouding his eyes. "You sound... really confident."
Ethan allowed a small, grim smile. "I have my reasons," he replied cryptically. "Now, let's focus on getting stronger."
Trevor gave a slow nod, finally calming down, though fear still lingered. "Mm."
The truth behind Ethan's confidence lay in a conversation he had with the system earlier.
'System, is there a way to survive this?' Ethan had asked, his mind racing as his heart clung to some shred of hope.
[There's always a way. Your way lies within your path... and the subordinate sign.]
'Subordinate sign? How?' Ethan's thoughts tumbled in confusion.
[The subordinate sign isn't just for identifying your subordinates. You can share some of your abilities with them. There's more to it, but for now, this is the option you have. Keep in mind, though, the abilities you can share are minimal, based on your current arsenal.]
'Hmm. I don't fully understand, but I suppose we'll figure it out once I complete the sign. But how do my path and this subordinate sign come together?'
[Your path is the key. It is one of the two supreme paths in the universe. I can't reveal everything yet, but you must know that your path is one of the highest orders. When you reach 20% unsealing, the full truth will be revealed.]
'...'
[Even 5% of your path is enough to survive this, provided you use it well. Cultivate and access your path, and you'll know what to do.]
'Why not just tell me everything?'
[You will fail the quest, and...]
'Thank you, Oh Great System!' Ethan interrupted, his tone dripping with sarcastic gratitude.
["..."]
As Ethan sat cross-legged, closing his eyes to block out the fear gnawing at the edges of his mind, Trevor, already calmer, entered a meditative state to focus on cultivation. Ethan, however, didn't cultivate in the traditional sense. Instead, he delved deeper into his own being. Zark had taught him how to access his path, so he followed the steps meticulously.
His consciousness sank into the depths of his essence, and almost instantly, his presence on the outside world transformed. Something about him became unfathomable. Subconsciously, his aura skills activated, masking their presence so effectively that the entire area they occupied seemed to vanish from the perception of any nearby beings.
Inside his essence, Ethan's consciousness — now a grey, ethereal form — floated in a vast, empty space. Yet, this space wasn't truly empty. Before him, a small golden orb no larger than a bead hovered, exuding an overwhelming presence of divinity and command. Its brilliance was both awe-inspiring and terrifying. Ethan's consciousness trembled, almost compelled to bow before it. He would have done so if it weren't for an unshakable understanding: this orb was his *path*.
The Path of Mysticism, whatever that truly meant.
Slowly, cautiously, he drifted closer to the golden orb. The moment his consciousness made contact with it, an explosion of golden light erupted, and from within the light emerged a golden serpent, a glowing version of Angitia. The serpent circled him curiously, as if studying him, trying to understand him. Ethan could sense two distinct presences: one from the serpent and the other from the orb, yet both were intrinsically linked, part of the same being.
Before he could dwell on the complexity of the situation, a calm, commanding voice echoed in his mind. "Master? You are my master."
The voice was soothing yet carried the weight of divine authority.
"Are you... my path?" Ethan asked, still unsure of what he was experiencing. From what he knew, a path wasn't a sentient being but an essence — an innate part of one's existence.
"Yes."
"Then I'm not your master," Ethan countered thoughtfully.
"Hmm?"
"You are me," Ethan continued. "You are my essence, my being, the core of my existence. Don't think of yourself as my servant. You are me, just in another form." As he spoke, the orb's light intensified. The golden serpent vanished into the orb, which then grew in size, becoming as large as a tennis ball. A golden ring adorned with silver markings appeared around it, and the orb gently floated from Ethan's hand to settle on his forehead.
In that instant, Ethan's consciousness slipped into a deep, tranquil sleep, while his physical body levitated slightly above the ground, a glowing golden dot pulsing on his forehead.
---
In a vast, golden hall, a place so massive it dwarfed even the grandest human cities, a being sat on a resplendent throne. The hall itself, the size of a small metropolis, was adorned entirely in gold — from the intricate columns that reached up to the heavens, to the golden carpet that led to the throne's steps. The air shimmered with a radiant light, the very essence of divine majesty filling the space.
The being seated on the golden throne was impossibly large, his form towering like a skyscraper. His skin was white as snow, smooth and flawless, reflecting the ambient light like polished marble. His body, muscular yet lean, was etched with golden runes in intricate patterns, each rune shimmering with an otherworldly glow. His golden hair cascaded like a waterfall down to his waist, framing his perfect, masked face. Despite the mask, the overwhelming aura of authority and divine beauty radiated from him. The most striking feature, however, was the small golden dot on his forehead, which pulsed with a mysterious, commanding presence.
Surrounding the throne were beings of every imaginable size and form, each emanating a powerful aura that would cause havoc in any other realm. Yet here, their auras harmonized with the being on the throne,
subdued and controlled by his overwhelming presence. All had expressions of absolute faith and reverence, and on each of their foreheads was a golden symbol: an orb encircled by multiple rings.
One of the figures, a sage-like entity draped in golden robes, stepped forward and knelt before the throne. His voice, melodic yet filled with reverence, broke the heavy silence.
"Great Lord Ⅿ∅∀∃∮ΏⅠ, is it time?"
The being on the throne gazed down at the sage, his voice a rumbling echo that reverberated through the hall. "Finally," he said. "We shall have our freedom at last, and I will pass the mantle to one more worthy."
The sage's eyes widened in awe. "You mean..."
"Yes," the Lord interrupted, his golden eyes gleaming. "He has finally appeared."
Gasps and murmurs of shock spread among the gathered beings, but there was also relief — a sense of anticipation that something long awaited was about to unfold.
---